


Past Demons

by camichats



Series: Imagine James and Sirius Prompts [180]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Good Boyfriend James Potter, James Potter Lives, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Scars, Sirius Black Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27481888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Sirius has scars, and he doesn't like to think about them. Harry asks about them one day, and Sirius panics.
Relationships: Sirius Black/James Potter
Series: Imagine James and Sirius Prompts [180]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/752925
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	Past Demons

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: “Harry sees Sirius scars and is a bit insensitive while asking about them causing major stress for siri. James comes to the rescue and they all cuddle in the end”

The thing is, Sirius usually wore long sleeves. He'd lost so much weight being in Azkaban that he got cold easily, and it was so much easier to retain what little heat he did have if he just wore long sleeves. He'd taken to joking that he was Moony now, because he had a jumper on any time that it wasn't summer. 

That was his go-to excuse, at least. It was a good one because it was true; it just wasn't the  _ main _ reason he wore long sleeves. He'd sort of scratched himself to hell when he'd been in Azkaban, and he liked to cover those scars. They were jagged and ugly, and when he saw them, all he could think about was being there. The conditions weren't what anyone would describe as good. Sirius would get hurt, and it would turn into an infection. Infections came with fevers, and with no way to regulate or treat himself, there had been the occasional, minor hallucination. It had never been too vivid-- nothing he remembered afterwards-- but he often ended the sickness with a new scar forming somewhere on his body. His arms had the most because they were the easiest parts of his body for his nails to reach. 

Naturally, he didn't like to talk about it. He didn't like to think about it, so why the hell would he tell people about it? James knew because of course he did, and Sirius had mentioned it to Remus before James had come back. When Sirius thought about it, he knew that it was just two people that knew. When he wasn't thinking about it though, it felt like everyone knew about it. 

He'd gotten a little more comfortable with it all. The scars didn't freak him out quite as much anymore. He still didn't like to think about them but getting a glance no longer sent him into a panic. 

There were dishes that needed to be put away, and he was alone in the kitchen, so he didn't really think about pushing his sleeves up and putting everything back in the cupboards. He probably could've used a spell to do it, but honestly, he didn't know if there was a specific spell for it and it would've taken him longer to find it or use a different spell than to just do it by hand-- not to mention that he would've had to be considerably more careful about it; it was far too easy to break dishes when using a spell. 

Harry came in, and Sirius didn't think anything of it. "Hey Padfoot. Do you know if we have any juice?" 

"What kind of juice?" Sirius asked, even though the answer was going to be 'I don't know' no matter what type of juice Harry said. 

"Orange." 

"I dunno, check the fridge." 

Harry did so, emerging victorious with the carton in one hand. He started to lift it to his mouth but froze when Sirius spoke again. 

"You better not be planning on doing what I think you're doing." 

"Erm." Harry blinked behind his glasses, eyes looking wider than normal because he was trying to affect innocence. With the threat of death gone from his life, he'd turned into a normal teenage boy. Sirius wouldn't change it back again for anything, so it was mostly amusing to him that Harry wanted to do things like drink straight from the bottle and left his dirty clothes everywhere around the house. "Of course not?" 

Sirius snorted, shaking his head. He reached up and grabbed a glass, holding it out to him. 

Harry grabbed it with a sheepish, "Thanks." He started to pour it, looking curiously at Sirius's arm. "Hey, what're those scars from? Is it from the Battle at Hogwarts?" It was a fair guess. That's what most people had their scars from. 

"No," was all Sirius said, rolling his sleeves back down. "You have plans with Ron tonight, yeah?" 

"...Yeah. Thanks for the glass," Harry said, then shuffled off, clearly knowing that he'd made a mistake but not knowing what it was. 

Sirius couldn't breathe. He was too hot, but all he wanted was to put on another jumper because layers always helped. He didn't finish putting away dishes. He wanted to; he'd  _ meant _ to, but he sort of slumped onto the floor and pulled his legs tight up to his chest and hadn't managed to calm down by the time James wandered into the kitchen. 

James didn't say anything, just sat down on the floor next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. When Sirius was in the middle of panicking, James normally didn't talk for a while, and this time was no exception. He waited for Sirius's breathing to normalize and for him to stop shaking-- if he'd been shaking that time, which he normally did. "Did something happen?" he asked, voice free of judgement. Not that James ever judged Sirius, but it always meant more at times like this, when he felt so fragile that he might bust into a hundred pieces if someone looked at him the wrong way. 

"Not really," Sirius said, then wiped at his face. He hadn't been crying, but it felt like he was covered in grime. He knew that he wasn't, but it didn't matter because it  _ felt _ like he was. "Harry asked about the scars and I just..." He didn't have to finish the sentence for James to know what he meant. 

"Do I need to talk to him?" James asked. 

"No. He wasn't terrible about it or anything," Sirius said, leaning his head to the side until he found a piece of James to rest against. 

"Alright," James said easily. "You want to get off the floor?" 

"Not really." 

"Okay. So I was thinking about buying a new couch," James said, and he kept talking. None of it was horribly important, but the lack of silence was nice. 

Harry came in somewhere around the time when James was comparing types of biscuits that could be bought at the muggle store a few streets away from them. "Hey," he said tentatively, hovering in the doorway instead of walking into the room completely. "Erm, sorry about earlier." 

Sirius shook his head. "You didn't do anything. Just." He tugged on his sleeves even though they were already all the way down his arms. "Azkaban. I don't like talking about it. I should've tried to say that instead of kicking you out." 

"You didn't kick me out; I left," Harry pointed out, taking a hesitant step closer. When he wasn't booted out of the room, he walked over and sat down on Sirius's other side. "Besides, I only came in for juice, anyways. There wasn't much point in staying in the kitchen when I was done." 

"And yet, here we all are," James said. 

Merlin, Sirius loved him. He loved James, he loved Harry, and he loved what they were as a family. A hacked-together family with more issues than a group of twenty would normally have, but at least they had each other. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a prompt driven blog @[imaginejamesandsirius](https://imaginejamesandsirius.tumblr.com) on tumblr. Feel free to drop by!


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